


A Cauldron Full of Realizations

by Applepie3399



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Amortentia, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M, Potions Class, brewing Amortentia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-02
Updated: 2017-10-02
Packaged: 2019-01-08 08:00:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12250278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Applepie3399/pseuds/Applepie3399
Summary: 8th Year students have to brew Amortentia in Potions class and Draco smells something he didn't expect at all.





	A Cauldron Full of Realizations

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Español available: [Un Caldero Lleno de Realizaciones - Traducción](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13740330) by [dari2210](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dari2210/pseuds/dari2210)



Draco had been prepared to be sent to Azkaban. As prepared as he could’ve been. It turned out he wasn’t going there at all. Potter came to his rescue, once again. It was thanks to his testimony that Draco walked a free man out of his trial.

And he was an alive man thanks to Potter as well. The Fiendfyre kept haunting him in his dreams. And Potter was there every time to take his hand and fly him away from danger. Draco remembered it so well, remembered the smell of Potter’s sweat as he cringed to him for dear life. Every time he felt relieved when he woke up. He hated Fiendfyre. And yet, he didn’t mind the dream too much. He didn’t dwell on why.

When he received a letter from McGonagall, inviting him back to Hogwarts for what she called “8th year”, Draco cried. He didn’t think he deserved the second chance he was being given. He hadn’t expected the letter at all. He thought it rude to refuse McGonagall. And he wanted to go back. Hogwarts was better than the Manor. 

Draco had no illusions though. He knew he’d be the social pariah. He knew people would take out their anger and grief on him, whether he had been personally responsible for their misery or not. 

So he prepared himself to be spit at, yelled at, hexed, cursed. Anything really. And it came the moment he stepped foot on Hogwarts Express. Draco heard it loud and clear, from a shorter boy behind him - “Filthy Death Eater! You should rot in Azkaban!”. Draco didn’t recognize the boy. He was perhaps a fifth year. Not that it mattered.

And then, Potter came to his rescue. Again. Apparently he had heard the boy. Well, it was a crowded corridor after all. A lot of people had heard the boy. And a lot of people heard Potter’s little speech about second chances for those who hadn’t been as committed to Voldemort’s cause as it may had seemed. 

No one attacked Draco afterwards. He was still getting plenty of dirty looks but nobody actually dared to go against the word of The Savior™.

Draco wanted to be angry about it. Angry at Potter for defending him when Draco hadn’t asked him to do so. But he couldn’t. Truth was, he was relieved. He felt he deserved the insults. But Potter didn’t think so. Potter thought Draco could turn out better if given the chance, now that he had seen the error of his ways.

For years Potter had been the source of Draco’s anger and misery. But not anymore. These days, seeing Potter brightened Draco’s day. For some reason. Draco wasn’t sure why. 

It became clear in Potions, while brewing Amortentia on Valentine’s Day. Draco thought the whole idea distasteful. So had Granger, by the looks of it.

His skills in Potion hadn’t rusted during the War. Only about a minute and Draco would brew a perfect Amortentia. Unlike Potter, who struggled, even though in 6th year he had done spectacularly well. Draco had always wondered how he had managed that. 

Potter gave up, sighing in defeat. Granger beckoned him and Weasley to her cauldron, in which, Draco was certain, was another perfectly brewed Amortentia. Potter didn’t seem enthusiastic but Granger was relentless. 

Draco turned his attention to his own cauldron, closed his eyes, and inhaled deeply. He hadn’t wondered what he would smell this time. He assumed it would be the same - green apples, his mother’s flower garden, and wood polish. 

And all those aromas were indeed there. But there was something else too. Something Draco recognized in a flash. Sweat. Potter’s sweat. How he could recognize a single person’s sweat from all others was still a mystery to him but he recognized it nonetheless. 

Draco’s eyes opened in shock. This was not what he was supposed to smell in Amortentia! Potter’s sweat! Of all things! 

He stood motionless, his panic silent. But it all made sense, Draco supposed. It made sense. Why seeing Potter brightened his day. Why his eyes always seemed to find Potter’s hair in a crowd. Why he feared and hated Fiendfyre but he always half-hoped he’d have that dream, if only to hold Potter.

It was messed up. But so many things in Draco’s life were messed up. This shouldn’t surprise him. It was just another disappointment in his life. After all, Potter didn’t feel the same way, Draco was certain. And yet, he still couldn’t help looking up from his cauldron and across the room. By all means, he should’ve seen the back of Potter’s head, based on the positions of Draco and Granger’s respective desks. 

But instead of the back of Potter’s head, Draco’s eyes locked to those of Potter, who had turned his head around to stare at Draco for a reason Draco couldn’t fathom at the moment. Potter seemed just as shocked as Draco had been. His cheeks reddened a bit and he turned his head swiftly, breaking the eye contact.

And then it clicked in Draco’s mind. It was impossible and yet... there was the proof. Why would Potter turn back towards Draco? Why blush? So many question and only one answer - because Potter had smelled Draco in the Amortentia. 

Granger was interrogating Potter. And Weasley’s mouth hung open, a horrified look in his eyes. Draco’s lips curled in a small smile.

Draco was suddenly very grateful to Slughorn for making them brew Amortentia again. Very grateful indeed.


End file.
